


when the cold is over

by tenmilliontrinkets



Series: Kyouhaba Week 2015 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Babysitting, M/M, my sister actually helped with the idea, so thanks to her, this is so ridiculously late again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4815068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenmilliontrinkets/pseuds/tenmilliontrinkets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>toddlers count as pets</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the cold is over

**Author's Note:**

> this is for kyouhaba week day 3!
> 
> family/pets; i think i technically did both
> 
> not beta'd again and written between AP World essays

Kyoutani doesn’t look  _surprised_ , per se, when Shigeru opens the door covered in paint and various mashed foods, but Shigeru finds the blank confusion on his face almost comical. Kyoutani’s left hand positively dwarfs that of a little girl, a toddler, Shigeru guesses, and she beams at Shigeru almost immediately, wide and blinding.

“You must be Hana,” Shigeru bends down to her level and holds his arms out. The little girl points at herself.

“Hana- _chan_ ,” she corrects, but she wriggles her hand from Kyoutani’s and allows herself to be picked up. Kyoutani clears his throat and meets Shigeru’s eyes.

“What the hell is the green stain?” He points at the splotch on the front of Shigeru’s shirt.

“Mashed peas, I think?” Shigeru responds, “you’ll pick her up at six?” Hana-chan tugs on his ear.

“Six-thirty,” there’s a strange turn to Kyoutani’s lips. Shigeru smiles and hopes it doesn’t look like a grimace.  
  


***

 

Hana-chan tells him that peanut butter gets gum out of hair, hands on her hips and face sticky as toddlers’ tend to be.

Shigeru figures she can’t be too malevolent, all big, brown eyes and flushed cheeks, and he allows the three-year-old to massage gobs of it into his scalp with tiny, deft fingers pulling hard enough for him to wince and getting smears of it on her nose and in his ears.

It’s past seven and after all the other kids have been picked up when his doorbell rings, startling Hana-chan into dropping a particularly large fistful of peanut butter right at the roots of Shigeru’s hair, dripping down over his temples. Shigeru absolutely does not curse-it’s bad form for a good babysitter-and he stands, careful to wipe a smudge from Hana’s nose and answer the door with an expert twist of his elbow on the doorknob.

Hana flings herself at her older brother, arms latching around his neck instantly and climbing onto his back swiftly, practiced. Kyoutani doesn’t even flinch, allows this blatant assault on the personal space Shigeru thought he would so value.

“You’re late,” Shigeru hopes he still looks menacing enough to threaten his teammate.

“Um,” Kyoutani registers the matted, stringy state of Shigeru’s hair. “Did she do that?” He doesn’t look entirely shocked and Shigeru wonders if Hana-chan’s smile really does tell all.

He waves his hand.

“Nothing I can’t deal with,” Kyoutani leans over as far as he can with Hana plastered to his shoulders.

“There’s peanut butter in your ears.”

 

***

 

Kyoutani’s fingers are short, like his sister’s, but calloused and rough enough that they’re optimal for separating Shigeru’s hair from the paste of pink bubble-gum and peanut butter that’s done a fine job of jelling it into wilted spikes.

Hana sits on the edge of Shigeru’s bath tub and swings her feet as Kyoutani works, silent except for splashes of water when her heels hit the surface.

Kyoutani tugs a final lump of gum free, holding Shigeru’s head still with startlingly gentle fingers at the nape of his neck.

“I left payment on the counter,” Kyoutani drops Shigeru’s hand towel onto his head. “Thank you.” Shigeru doesn’t answer, a beat of confusion that _Kyoutani just thanked him_   throwing his original plan of telling his client off for being late. Hana-chan latches onto his leg and pulls, tipping Shigeru forwards and into Kyoutani ahead of him.

“Shi-Hana!” Kyoutani pushes Shigeru upright, glaring at his younger sister, but there’s no heat behind it, nothing harsh in the way he scoops her upwards against his chest. She giggles and kicks at him, pulling at Kyoutani’s cheeks. “She’s not usually this hyper,” Kyoutani begins, but Hana-chan’s palm connects solidly with his forehead the next second. Shigeru raises his eyebrows. “We’re just going to leave,” Kyoutani makes for the door, jostling Shigeru’s side table as Hana covers his eyes playfully.

“Bring me back tomorrow,” she demands, grabbing at Shigeru. Shigeru smiles and shifts his eyes to focus on Kyoutani.

“Bring her back tomorrow,” he confirms, and Kyoutani scoffs.

“You need friends your own age,” he calls behind him.

“Toddlers are easier.”

Kyoutani’s laugh is barely there, a short, tremulous blip of mirth before he’s a silhouette walking the path along Shigeru’s house, Hana’s hands waving at him until they’re too small to see.

 

***

 

“I can stay today,” Kyoutani’s hands are folded in front of him, “if you need help.” Shigeru looks around.

“If you don’t mind changing diapers, you’ll get forty percent of the profit.” Shigeru points him towards a cluster of diaper bags. Hana-chan greets Shigeru with a flying tackle, legs wrapped around his midsection and fingers digging into his ribs, dragging him over to a pile of colored pencils and paper before he can protest.

Kyoutani looks on, something like amusement or embarrassment fixing his expression into just above impassive.

 

***

 

The caliber of panic on Kyoutani’s face sends Shigeru into hysterics. Terrible timing for a laughing fit when a toddler is screaming, he remembers, but then Kyoutani’s bouncing the child on his knee and clapping his hands.

The little boy stares up at Kyoutani, mouth hanging open as if unsure whether to cry or laugh, and Shigeru figures he’s got it under control by now.

 

***

 

“How do they even get their fingers  _so far in their nose_?”

“They’re kids. They defy logic.”

 

***

 

The day is over when Shigeru ushers the last sniffling child outside to her parents, smiling weakly until they’ve turned the corner at the end of the street.

Kyoutani’s collapsed facedown on his couch with Hana-chan sitting beside him intently plastering stickers to the backs of his legs.

“You do this every day,” Kyoutani mutters into a cushion, “and you’re not  _dead_.” Shigeru snorts.

“Some days are better than others,” he drops Kyoutani’s share of the profit beside him.

“Wouldn’t you rather pet-sit?”

“It’s pretty much the same, in my opinion.” Kyoutani shakes his head.

“Pets  _listen_.” Hana-chan’s fallen asleep beside Kyoutani, head pillowed on his stomach.

“I should,” Kyoutani gestures at the door with one hand and drops Hana onto his shoulder gently.

“Come back tomorrow,” It’s under his breath so as to not wake up the little girl asleep on Kyoutani’s back.

Kyoutani points at his sister.

“Do I have a choice?”

 

***

 

Kyoutani’s scarily good at this, winning over children it had taken weeks for Shigeru to befriend. His appearance is nearly disregarded, receiving the odd, honest question regarding the style of his hair as expected, but the kids are more fascinated with hanging off of his arms and climbing over his shoulders.

His eyes drift to Kyoutani at the worst moments (for Shigeru, at least, because afterwards his stomach doesn’t stop flipping until Kyoutani leaves for the day), finding Kyoutani with pins clipped into his short hair as he fingerpaints with a group of two-year-olds or clad in an apron with a pan of cookies in his hand.

It’s entirely ridiculous and terrible for his health.

 

***

It’s Hana-chan who finally cracks, tugging Shigeru down to her height and telling Shigeru that he ought to go hold Kyoutani’s hand  _right now_  or everything would be ruined.

Who's Shigeru to refuse a three-year-old?

 

***

 

Honestly, he wishes he’d gotten more of a reaction, a violent blush or a scandalized expression, but Kyoutani simply adjusts their hands into a position that he can still brush Hana-chan’s hair with his free hand while rubbing his thumb over Shigeru’s knuckles absently.

He kisses Shigeru on the corner of his mouth when they’re leaving as if it’s natural. Shigeru thinks, at this point, it might be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  


 

 

 

 


End file.
